What Matters Most
by Karianasan
Summary: After overhearing a conversation between Daphne and Fred, Velma decides to do something she knows will cheer up Fred. At least, she hopes so... Everyday/Slice of life story with a bit of fluff at the end. Frelma. Complete! Please enjoy!
1. What Matters Most

"That's it..."

Sometimes Velma's own brain was her worst enemy. Having overheard something earlier, her mind had latched upon an idea and wouldn't let it go. To the point of utter frustration! It was such a nagging idea, that she couldn't think of anything else. The idea floated around her brain that all she could see… was it.

 _You should just get rid of it. It's old and falling apart…_ Velma recalled Daphne saying earlier, which got her thinking. She didn't mean to overhear the comment, but she couldn't help it. Daphne hadn't been really very quiet about it, being loud enough down the hall the sounds of the conversation had reached her room easily. Then again, it most likely didn't matter to Daphne, not like it mattered to her. Velma understood fully how meaningful something could be to someone.

"I'm going to do it."

Giving into her mental prodding, Velma got up from where she had been working to peer out her bedroom door. Her heart skipping a beat, she breathed in and out a few times before she collected herself. Scouting out the hallway just outside, she didn't see anyone. She listened just in case, but she couldn't hear anything that indicated someone was near. And as Daphne had demonstrated earlier, she really wasn't one to be quiet.

"If I'm going to do this, I better do it now..." Muttering to herself, she had to convince herself to do what she had planned to do. Gripping the door, she pulled herself into moving. Fearing that if she didn't get going soon, her mind would kick in an argument that might stall her plan. Making more indecision then she already was fighting against. And she couldn't have that happen.

It didn't help that she was feeling the tension similar to being on a case; each step striding towards her goal, yet cautious at what could be around the corner. Just like one of her mysteries, though confusing her at the same time since she was at home. And no monster was going to be jumping out of the shadows at her. Yet she still felt the thrill of the event, along with her heart beating rampant in her ears.

Crossing the hallway quickly, she only stopped long enough to peek into the closet on the way. She had hoped it would have been there. But it was no surprise that it wasn't. She wasn't lucky enough to have what she needed in such a convenient spot. Not seeing what she was looking for, there was only one place it could have ended up. Knowing that, Velma's destination was then the basement. Steeling herself, she made for the basement door. It was only down the hall and to the right, but she wasn't expecting what she found as she turned around the corner!

"D…Daphne!"

The hallway had two archways that led to the living room, and the various rooms off of the hallway itself. It also was the only way to get either to the basement, on one side; or the second floor, on the opposite side. So when Velma was making a beeline to the basement, she had to pass by the archway… Where Daphne had just happened to have stopped, and turned to stare at her friend when she came into view.

"Oh! Hiya Velma. You scared me there! Heh, what you up to? I thought I last saw you bent over a project in your room. What you doing out here?"

 ** _~!~_**

Seeing Daphne, Velma locked up in shock and confusion. Not have expected the redhead to be right there! But before Velma's brain could catch up to her being caught off guard, Daphne realized where they were standing in front of. Looking around at where they were, she placed a closed fist into the palm of her other hand. Putting two and two together, she chided herself for even asking the silly question.

"Oh, silly me. Sorry Velma, I'm a bit off today. I should have realized that you were heading to the basement for something." Pausing, Daphne smiled at her friend before continuing. "For your project, right?"

Finally getting past her surprise, Velma was able to put two thoughts together long enough to realized that Daphne had just made up her own excuse for her! She hadn't expected to run into her taller companion, and since she was sneaking around she was already on edge since she didn't want to get caught in her masterful plan. She had easier time fooling a ghost of monster in the middle of a chase sequence, then trying to pull a fast one on Daphne in their own house. The tension was there, but not to the extreme that gave her a better reaction time against such spur of the moment happenstance. The problem was the fact that she knew Daphne so well, since it was easier to fool someone that you didn't know, and didn't know you back.

"Y…yeah. I need something from the basement." This wasn't a lie, thanks to Daphne's own words. Not that it made Velma feel any better for fooling her best friend. But she didn't want her to get suspicious at what she planned to do.

"I better get that, so I can finish my project." Velma said with more confidence, her mind being able to catch up and help her calm down not to give it all away already!

"Ok, have fun! Good luck!" Patting her friend on the back, Daphne wasn't the wiser. Watching the woman turn away, Velma had to hold in her breath as she watched Daphne leave. This was a mental sigh of relief for the sneaking Velma. Letting her friend get back to work, Daphne continued to where she had been heading anyway. Giving the kitchen door a push, Daphne cautiously peered into the room before continuing inside. Giving Velma a perfect time to grab her 'project' and get back to her room before Daphne came back, or anyone else in the house might notice.

Pulling herself downstairs, she placed a hand upon her chest to try to quiet her own thumping heart. Not that being found out would be anything bad, but she didn't want to be embarrassed at her soon to be actions. It was harder to get away with something, when you got caught in the middle of doing it. Rather than finishing and then at least it would be done. She wanted to do this, without being found out. And it was hard to not be discovered doing something sneaky, in a house full of detectives!

Getting to the bottom of the stairs, Velma looked about the basement making sure no one was down there. A quick check of the rooms double checked her first assessment and with relief she went to work. Moving to look in a few of her drawers, it took her a bit to find the box she had been looking for. Her rush made a bit of a mess, but she would clean that up later. Thankfully, it wouldn't be the first time she did this, nor the last. So at least the mess didn't seem out of place.

With box in hand, she made her way into the back of the basement to find what she had been searching for. For a second she grew worried that someone had gotten to it before her, but after a bit she finally found it. Snatching up the material, she rolled it into a ball and thrust it into the box she was carrying, hoping that if anyone caught her on her way back to her room, she could hide the material away from prying eyes.

"Gotcha!"


	2. Struggles and Suspence

Never before had Velma ran to her room as fast as she just did!

Her legs becoming a blur of movement! She traveled across the basement, up the stairs, across the hallway, and into her room. Her rush fueled by the fear of getting found out, and her own raging heart. Pulling her door to her bedroom, she realized a bit too late that she had tugged it too hard and the door was going to slam! Biting her lip, she managed to forcefully jam her hand in the way, taking the brunt of the impact on her fingers… Rather than letting the door sound out if the wood hit the door frame.

"Oww….." Shaking her right hand, she used her left to close the door gently with a soft click.

"Phew. That was close." Making the gesture, she whipped the sweat from her brow and looked at her prize. Though the throbbing feeling from her fingers, reminded her to take care of that first.

Putting the box aside, Velma reached into her desk for her trusty first aid kit. It was well used, and fully stocked. She wasn't as bad as Danger Prone Daphne was, but with all the crazy projects she had worked on over the years, she knew better then to be ill prepared. Looking over her injured digits, she had really done a number on her pointer and middle finger. And they throbbed enough to make her need to take care of this first. Grabbing a nearby water bottle, she opened a small bottle of pain medication to help. She made sure to follow the instructions on the bottle, before taking the recommended dose. With that out of the way, she moved to place two Band-Aids on the spot where the edge had smashed in part of her finger, breaking the skin. It made bending them a bit tough, but then so did the injury. Doing all she could for them, she turned her attention back to the task at hand. Casting a glance at where she had put down the box.

It was the sewing kit that she owned. A simple little wooden box, that folded open into several compartments and held various rolls of thread and the like needed for sewing. And as much as she loved the idea of messing with the duo with the classic tin of cookies sewing kit, she needed the extra space the sturdier container provided. Especially with several people needing to use it, and Daphne's desire to have all the colors she needed for her clothing. Though the woman did have her own sewing kit, this one was more of a general kit Velma had in her basement, for such occasions.

Opening it up, she took out the crumpled shirt that she had stuffed into the box to hide. It was one of Fred's blue undershirts. A simple button down shirt that he always wore under his white over shirt. This one in particular was a short sleeved version, while he owned several long sleeves as well for when the weather turned colder.

Settling herself on her bed, she placed the sewing kit within reach and gently laid out the shirt to get a better look at it. Tucking her legs up, she cast a glance to the closed door. It was a flimsy protection against what she was doing, since sometimes people just wandered into her room without knocking. But part of the fact that she could get caught in the moment… excited her! But she also didn't want to rush and do a poor job either.

"Alright, let's do this!"

Running a hand across the well-loved blue material, she knew how Fred felt. She had killed more than her share of her own sweaters in the past. On a mystery or otherwise… And she did everything she could to keep the well-worn outfits in her collection as long as she could. Mainly until Daphne either bugged her to get rid of it, or there was so much damage to the shirt that she couldn't save the beloved article. So she wanted to try to at least see if this shirt could be salvaged and prove Daphne wrong.

Checking the clothing over, she took mental stock of the damages. The shirt was well worn, and thinning in many places, but there were the key sections that had gotten so worn that a hole had been torn in that spot. Under the arms mainly, and at the base of the neck where the over shirt tended to rub and help the thinning process. Also one of the shirt pockets had seen better days, as Fred had often stuck things into his pockets for various projects. From working on the Mystery machine, to hiding something important on a case, in a kind of secret pocket under his shirt. It made a great and convenient place to stick small clues, when they found them. That, or her modified 'battle gear' as Daphne had put it. Her shirts that she had modified for hidden compartments and pockets. So she was able to carry a lot more gear then she seemed. The poofy sweater was more than just a fashion statement… it was storage!

Casting a cautionary glance again to the door, she drew a breath to calm herself down.

 _'Come on Dinkley…'_ She chided herself. ' _You need to concentrate here. Don't worry about the door so much, and focus on the shirt in front of you. If someone comes across you, you can deal with it when it happens. The quicker you get it done, the less you need to worry about being caught.'_

But it was easier said than done. And it also didn't help that she was worried about her skills in sewing. Opening up her kit, she was able to find the range of blue colors she was looking for. She had to compare the threads to the material, only because the shirt had faded from its original hue. As good as her laundry solution was, and their own skill in cleaning their clothes… things happened. So his shirt was definitely lighter than its original color. Daphne made sure to keep Velma's kit well stocked if she noticed she was running low on a color, so the brunette didn't have to worry about not having enough to fix Fred's shirt… Now the hardest thing was actually sewing it!

For you see… Velma was really skilled at many things, but most things artsy wasn't one of them. Sure, maybe in another life she might have been an art student, but as amazing as her brain was… putting the needle in and out of clothing was probably the extent of her skills. And while it would hold against the tugs and twists of everyday life, it really didn't look appealing. Her stitches were all over the place, and sometimes crossed over one another even though she had been clearly moving in only one direction. The spacing was uneven, and sometimes the cloth would bunch against her will… but it worked. She never had a sweater or skirt tear in the same spot, unless it got caught by some outside force against it. So besides that, Velma knew that at least her repairs should hold up and make the shirt last longer.

Putting the shirt down, she plucked a nearby needle and started to get ready to thread it. Licking two fingers, she wiped down the end of the thread so it fit easily in the tiny hole at the top of the needle. Thankfully with all her other projects and such, her fingers could handle the tiny and dexterous task. Though why she couldn't make straight lines, even though her hands were as skilled as they are, she hadn't figured out.

 _'It's probably due to practice and muscle memory.'_ She thought to herself, sighing that she didn't spend more time practicing it. But trying to sew nicely, wasn't as high on her project list compared to many others that she would enjoy far more.

Pulling the thin string through, she pulled it long enough for the area she was working on and folded it over so that the needle would have what looked to be two threads from it rather than one. It was part of the secret of her strong stitching, but it also made for a rather ugly back knot if she wasn't careful. Though sometimes it was possible to hide the knot on the inside of the shirt… as she was about to do.

With her free hand, she flipped over the shirt to look at which side she wanted to start with first. Both armpits had a rather large tears, and then the collar and pocket. So she figured she would deal with the bigger issues first. Tugging one sleeve through itself, she turned the outfit inside out and laid the material across one of her knees. She was thankful that she wasn't in her usual garb with her skirt, because sitting cross legged didn't work when you had roommates. Even with the door closed.

Smoothing the sleeve down with her hand, she found that there was a seam running on the underside of the arm. While the re-enforced material hadn't failed, the spots on other sides of it had. So what originally looked like a single hole, was actually two on either side of a thinning band. So she picked a side and brought over her needle.

"Hmmm…"

While the edge of the hole was against the seam that joint the arm to the body, a spot she could use for anchoring the one side… There was no way to avoid bunching in some areas on the opposite side. Because she had to gather a bit of the sleeve past the hole to make sure the thin material she was sewing through would hold her stitching. The trick was to grab as little as possible, to cut down on the bunching.

Pushing the needle through the corner where one seam met with the other, she tried to hide the knot of her needle and pulled tall the rest of the thread as it passed through and secured into the edge of the shirt. Tugging it upwards, she made sure the thread laid flat before moving to put the needled back in for a second pass, and then a third. But at the fourth, her right pointer finger throbbed and she managed to put the pointy end of the needle… straight into her other pointer finger that had been holding the material close to where she was sewing.

"Brilliant move Dinkley." She chided herself, pulling up the finger to suck on it. The last thing she needed was to get blood on the shirt, on top of her stitching. Then Daphne would really be for getting rid of it. But thankfully she didn't do more than a pin prick and a small amount of blood came out. But making sure she would protect the shirt from herself, Velma reached for the nearby first aid kit to add another band-aid to her collection. Making the count up to three.

"… Back to work. And no more attempts at self-Acupuncture." Muttering to herself, she picked up the needle and made sure to place her hands a wee bit further then last time. Just in case.

After that, her hands went on automatic as she moved across the hole and brought one side to the seam in the best way she could with her skills. It wasn't going to be perfect, but it should hold. Knotting the end of the hole, she snipped the end quickly with her teeth and rolled a knot between her fingers before shifting the bundle to the other side to get the other hole on that side. Hiding the knot again, she tried to make quick work on that as well.

 _ **BANG~!**_

Her head whipping up, she felt the whole room shake slightly as the sound of clacking nails skittered down the hall and slammed into the wall that was right outside her bedroom door. Her eyes went wide as she tensed in mid darning… stabbing her finger yet again, though in a different spot. She didn't want to move. Her eyes were trained towards the entryway, afraid that Scooby might press inside her door any second to escape whomever he was running away from at the time. But with the shouts of Shaggy coming down the hallway and out towards the living room, it seemed that it was a false alarm and Scooby just needed to bounce of her wall in order to press forward and away from Shaggy. No doubt being guilty of stealing something or another that Shaggy had been working on. It didn't happen often that the duo would butt heads, but sometimes a hungry stomach would win out.

Sighing into herself, she took a moment to fix her finger and got back to her sewing. Trying to suppress her need to hurry up because of the incident. ' _I've barely started… I don't want to be caught yet.'_

A few more loops, and she was able to tie off the thread and call that sleeve good. Flipping it through and looking at the mend from the outside… it didn't look too bad. But thankfully not only was the joint on the underside of the arm, but it normally was hidden under another shirt. So even if her sewing wasn't perfect, even if he wore it outside the fixes should be hidden from sight.

"One down." She murmured to herself.

Moving to do the same thing to the other side. Getting into the motions, the second sleeve took much less time than the first one. Even though one of the holes was a bit bigger than the other side she already fixed up. And with the bulk of the damages repaired, she was able to relax a bit more. Earlier, she hadn't gotten as much finished, so if she was caught she would have to vocally explain what she was up too, rather than now where she could show her progress in her actions and seem less silly.

Here she was, getting all wound up over secretly sewing one of her friend's shirts. It seemed so outrageous that she was stressing so much about being found out or having to explain herself… but she felt like that anyway. She wanted to do something nice for Fred, but didn't want people to know about it, till she was already done with the act. She just didn't want to get caught in the middle of being nice.

Flipping the shirt over, she draped it across her legs as she brought the collar closer. It was a high collar, to help with Fred's signature look and pulling the material past the white shirt and sit around his neck. It formed the base where he tended to hang his Ascot from, putting the iconic neck wear close to his neck so that it would hang over the blue and white shirt respectively.

These holes were a lot smaller, and they dotted the edge of the seam where the back piece of the shirt met the neck. In the gap between the well-worn brand tag and another tag that had sewn in laundry instructions for the best clean. It was an easy repair, though the worn tag caught her eye. Rubbing the little piece of material between her fingers, it seemed that there was something written upon it with a sharpie that had long faded over many uses and washes. She couldn't quite make it out, though it could have been a single letter or number. Either way, she didn't want to mess with it and relabel it, in case she got it wrong. So just sewing things was her goal.

"Finally!"

Holding up the finished shirt, she made sure to give it a look over to make sure she didn't miss any other holes. She got the two on either arms, the small holes at the neck and repaired the torn corner on his breast pocket. Flipping the shirt back and forth, nothing else caught her eye… She was finally done!

"Now to bring it to Fred… I hope he's still home."


	3. Results of Effort

While she had been so excited to show Fred his finished shirt, as she charged up the stairs she became more hesitant as she reached the landing to the second floor. With the shirt folded and tucked over her arm, she fingered the cloth as she waged war with herself.

 _*'Come on… You went through all that trouble, just to wuss out when you were going to give it to him?'_ Her sarcastic mind snapped at her.

 _~'Well, what if it doesn't matter to him? What if I did all this work, yet he doesn't care about me spending the time to repair it?'_ Doubt voiced its opinion, making her pause.

- _'Are you joking? This is a man who cries each time when we have lost the various Mystery Machines in the past. He's fond of his things, and you don't have to worry about it!'_ Reason spoke up, using logic and past experiences to show examples of why it would be fine.

^' _Yeah, he's going to appreciate it!'_ Chimed in her positivity.

* _'You could just stand right outside Daphne's room for a while, thinking about it and arguing this to yourself and get caught by her. That's a great idea.'_ Her snarky side pointed out, winning the argument. Because the last person she wanted to see right now, was Daphne. Not that the woman might not appreciate the work she put into the repair, but Daphne did love going shopping. So buying him a new shirt was better in her eyes, then sewing up the old one. Especially after Daphne already said that it should have been tossed in the trash.

Making up her mind, she continued towards Fred's room. Pausing only to knock her knuckles on the frame to announce that she was there.

"Come on in Velma!" Fred spoke from somewhere beyond the door frame. Velma paused, but giving it a thought she was probably the only one who actually knocked on his door before wandering in. So it was easy for the man to deduce who was knocking.

Peeking in, she saw that Fred was bent over his desk working on something. He had his pose-able light that was normally for the van, clamped to the side of his desk to provide antiquate light for his current project. And she also noticed that he had on his jeweler eyeglasses she had bought him one Christmas for working on his miniatures. So he didn't strain his eyes as much, squinting to work on all the small details he put into his villains gallery and Maidens and Monsters pieces. And he was currently working on Shaggy's Northwode figure, having taken a tumble last time Shaggy had taken it out. So Fred had been repairing it before their next game.

"What do you think?" Turning and offering up the small mini, Velma wasn't able to tell where it had been damaged.

"Pfffff…. Hahaha."

When Fred twisted to show her, he still had on the headpiece… making his eyes look uncharacteristically big due to the magnification. It took a second before the man realized what happened, and plucked the device from his head to look at her normally. But while Velma was caught up on amusing moment, Fred noticed what she had folded over one arm and lit up!

"Is that…? It is!" Plucking the article of clothing from her grip, his face beamed as he unfolded it and looked it over. "It's Five-vy!"

 _'Five-vy? Well, maybe that was the number that was faded on the tag?'_ Velma thought to herself. It had looked kind of like an uppercase S or a 5, so she had been right about the five part. So did that mean he had shirts labeled one through four as well? It was possible since she herself had several sweaters that all looked the same. She just kept track of them depending on various worn spots, repairs or small stains that got past Daphne.

"You… You fixed my shirt?" Holding up the shirt, he noticed that the holes that had been there earlier in the day, had been repaired. Running a hand across the stitching, he took stock on the spots that had been sewn up.

"Yeah… I accidentally overhead Daphne earlier when you two were taking in the hallway. Sorry, I couldn't help myself when she was saying that the shirt should just be thrown out, when it could be repaired." Turning her head, she blushed slightly as he was overwhelmingly positive at her actions. Especially as Fred brought up the shirt and gave it a hug like a beloved stuffed animal.

"Thank you, Thank you, Thank you!" With big watery eyes, he clutched the shirt fondly.

"I have had this shirt for years now. It was one of the first shirts that I bought when we moved into this house after Miss Snowlark had passed away. And I was wearing this one when we saved my parents from that Cruise had gone pirate-y! I considered this my lucky shirt! Thank you Velmster, you're the **best**!"

"It was nothing, Freddy." Velma said bashfully and turned her back to him, but thankful that he was happy with the repairs. Though she was taken aback at his reaction, she hadn't realized it was such a sentimental shirt. Sure, she knew he loved his outfits, but not to the point that he recalled the actual mysteries that each one had been on. But she figured that having it numbered, certainly helped.

"… It's nothing fancy, and the stitches are a bit messy. But it should hold." Tossing a hand up, she waved his enthusiasm away. Not wanting to get his hopes up too much. It was an old shirt after all, so she couldn't ensure that there won't be another hole popping up some time in the future in another spot. Though she would be willing to sew it up again, if he asked.

Fred had the shirt still clutched to himself. But he didn't miss the various bandages that littered Velma's waved hand as she dismissed her own work, not wanting him to get too worked up about it. But if the injuries on her fingers were any indication, she had put a lot of effort into the shirt then he first noticed.

With her back turned, she didn't notice him coming up from behind her. Nor did he see his moment of hesitation before he moved into his hug. Using his taller height, and not wanting to spook her too much, he gripped her in a hug at her shoulders. Tucking his head into her neck and shoulder, and gripping one shoulder with a hand and the other cradling her elbow lightly. His chest lightly pressing into her back, but with a gap for the rest of him to be further away so he didn't overwhelm her. Enough to show his thanks, but loose enough that if she wanted to run away, she could.

She bristled in shock, taking a moment to freak out for a second at the closeness, before trying to calm herself down in his arms. This wasn't a bad guy sneaking up behind her to nab her, this was Fred. Her friend and housemate. Someone she trusted.

"I know you aren't good with hugs like this, but I wanted to thank you for going out of your way to fix my shirt. And I can see how much work you put into it. It means a lot to me." Fred muffled into her sweater, not wanting to look up and see the face she might have been making. "Thank you."

Velma's expression softened in his grip, bringing up a hand to give a reassuring squeeze to the arm that came across her collarbone. Taking a big breath in to settle herself, she gave his arm another squeeze.

"You are very welcome Freddy. I was glad to work on it. Though I was a bit worried that one of you guys would come in while I was sewing… Ruining my surprise before I was finished. But thankfully none of you guys came in while I was working on it. It was really stressful!" Velma admitted to him with a laugh. She had gotten so worked up about it, yet all she was doing was just sewing a simple shirt. Not like she was being devious or anything worth being concerned about.

"Really?" Fred said, perking up and looking up where he had tucked his face. Figuring if she was laughing and reacting like that, that she was ok with his hug. Pulling a hand up to take her own, he turned her hand so he could look at the damage she had done to herself for his sake. The two fingers that had taken the hit from her door, had started to turn a bit black and blue. So Fred wore a frown on his face as he noticed the injury.

"Oh, that is nothing but my own fault." Velma chuckled at her fingers in his grip. Thankfully they didn't hurt as much as they looked. And she bent them in his grasp to show that they were ok… Well mostly ok.

"I was in such a rush, I closed these into my door." Velma admitted sheepishly. Not her brightest moment there.

"Aw…" Moving her fingers up to his face, he thought about kissing them to make them feel better. But he didn't want to press his luck any more then he already did. So he bent her arm to place her hand on his crossing arm beside her other hand and gave it a pat. Overlapping his hand upon hers.

"Well next time I hope that you will be gentler next time. You need those fingers to 'save the world'." He mused, making a reference to what Shaggy called her letters to her coworkers at NASA.

"Oh Fred, not you too." Velma snorted, breaking their grip so that she was able to turn and fully face him. Giving him a lighthearted swat on his upper arm with her free hand. Her glasses were thick enough on the sides, that glancing past them to him hovering over her shoulder, was starting to strain her eyes. And well, she had been so close to him for longer then she normally spent. Ignoring what happened in the midst of a mystery. And that was a different matter entirely. This sort of thing… in his bedroom, later in the day… Was far more personal than a gang pileup during a chase. But even as they separated, he held a light hold on her right hand in his own. Keeping them connected as she put distance between them.

Silence fell between the two. Standing in the middle of Fred's room, hand in hand. Velma stared at the connecting, trying to find what to say. She knew she needed to lightly break the tension, but then a small part of her didn't want it to end. She liked being thanked for her hard work, and it didn't happen all that often aloud. Sure, she knew the gang appreciated her. But sometimes it was nice to see that gratitude in deed and gesture like Fred was showing her.

Fred on the other hand, had his mind reeling for something to say. Something that would be the perfect thing to say. Something that wouldn't get misunderstood or be more than him just saying 'thank you' over and over again. But in his frantic searching, he noticed that he had dropped his shirt on the floor when he moved to hug her.

"Five-vy!" Fred broke contacted to rush to pick up the poor discarded shirt. "And after Velms put so much effort into fixing you."

Disappointed but amused at the man's love for his clothing, Velma chuckled as he once again hugged the article of clothing tight.

"Now it still needs to be washed." Velma made sure to tell him, as she had plucked the shirt before it had gone into the wash to work on it. "So it's still dirty and Fred don't…!"

As Velma was explaining the situation to him, Fred decided to try the shirt out… Over his current clothing which was at least two layers thicker than the poor shirt was used too. He slid his arms in flawlessly, but as he flexed his shoulders into the back of the shirt… a long sound of a rip sounded out.

 ** _Shriiiiiipppppppp~!_**

Eye popping open wide, Fred's eyes watered as he looked over apologetically to Velma. Paused in his actions like a statue, not wanting to make it worse. Velma drew in a deep breath, and placed a hand over her face as she tried to suppress a sigh. Though corners of her smile betrayed her bemused expression.

"Oh Freddy Freddy Freddy…." Pulling her hand down and shaking her head, she moved to help him take off the shirt without doing any more damage. Gently she was able to pull the shirt from his shoulders, and took stock of what had happened. Following the seam from the edge of where she had repaired, the cloth had been worn by the shoulder joint and couldn't take the force put on it, when Fred had put it over his normal outfit. It was an undershirt after all. But at least her stitching held, having everything but her sewing rip on that side. But the hole was big enough for Velma to be able to stick her hand through.

"…I'm sorry…." Fred almost sniffed, feeling bad that he just ruined all her work with his delight to wear it so soon. His shoulders slumping forward in dismay as he looked a the folded shirt in her grasp.

"Save the waterworks silly. It's just a small hole. We can fix it." Folding the shirt over her arm again, she patted him on the shoulder to comfort him. It was not much of a hole, and at least she didn't have to worry about being caught this time.

"Let's go to my room, and you can keep me company while I sew it back up." She started to move towards his door to head back to her room where the kit was still sitting out where she had left it. And thankfully she still had more than enough blue thread left to do any other repairs.

"…Just don't tell Daphne about it." Velma said with a smile. Knowing that her taller companion would jump at the chance to replace the beloved shirt, especially knowing that it just ripped when he put it on.

"Oh yeah… My lips are sealed!" Fred nodded and made a motion to zip up his lips. Daphne was the last person he wanted to tell about it. She already got on his case often enough about his favorite PJ pants. So he didn't need to give her another reason for want of a make-over in his wardrobe.

"We'll keep this a secret… Just between you and me!" Fred agreed, following after her.

"Let's go!"


End file.
